


the fog of your breath

by nutellamuffin



Series: stitched with the colours of you [7]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Cas Has Never Seen Snow, Drabble, Panic Attacks, Poor Edmund, Snow, They're Engaged In This One, and he just wanted a nice getaway for them, and he knows how to deal with panic attacks the right way, but Damn Jadis, edmund has trauma and yes we're mentioning that, ignoring canon (again)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutellamuffin/pseuds/nutellamuffin
Summary: for a moment he panics that he’s broken him, somehow, and then he realizes what lucy had been slowly teaching him; sometimes your trauma changes you.
Relationships: Caspian/Edmund Pevensie
Series: stitched with the colours of you [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2028062
Kudos: 102





	the fog of your breath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MostlyFandomTrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostlyFandomTrash/gifts).



caspian has never seen snow.

he has heard of it, loosely; or rather, he has heard of the age of the white witch, even before he got a glimpse of her, even before he had the moment that branded itself into the walls of his brain where he  _ reached _ for her,  _ he reached for her and he made peter do it, too, _ but he has never seen proper snow on the ground.

he supposes they aren’t in an area for snow, where he grew up- and he never had a longing for it, though when they’re on a getaway in who knows where, (caspian has long forgotten, and caspian has much less cared,) where the only ones listening to them are the trees and the waves lapping the shore is from a river, he cannot deny the sprinkle of snowflakes on his cheeks is somewhat magical.

he blinks, and the glittering flecks of white catch his dark eyelashes, and he can’t help but laugh breathlessly as he turns, a chill in the air sending shivers down his spine. “this is what snow is like,  _ mi alma _ ?” he says aloud, and when he receives no answer, he stops looking at the snowflakes to notice the other, “ed?”

and oh,  _ aslan, _ he should have known this was coming. there is no expression on edmund’s face so far except what looks like bone chilling shock, and he is only looking at the snowflakes gather on his fingertips as if they have burned him, and caspian has never felt more stupid in his life for indulging in his moment of wonder.

“edmund,” it’s more an exhale than a word when he approaches him, his hands outstretched for a moment until he holds them, hovering, back from his fiancé. he hears edmund choke on his own breath in and he can feel the guilt twisting his stomach up in knots, because of  _ course _ he shouldn’t of brought them here, he should’ve found some flashy island for a getaway- not here, not when there was a possibility become reality that they could get caught up in this.

for a moment he panics that he’s broken him, somehow, and then he realizes what lucy had been slowly teaching him.  _ sometimes your trauma changes you. _ with a trembling gaze, edmund looks up at him and caspian’s heart breaks, and he asks, ever so quietly, “can i touch you?”

and his fiancé all but  _ crumbles _ into his arms, and he is so cold- colder than he usually is, colder than caspian thinks he’s ever been- and he is shaking, tremors up and down his spine that can’t just be from the snow against bare skin, and caspian wants to wrap him up like this in his arms for the rest of his life and tuck him away where the cold can never hurt him again.

“cas,” edmund chokes out, and it takes everything in him not to take them home right that minute, where he can lie with him under the covers to keep him warm and cup his face and kiss his fears away. but he can’t, not like this, never like this, and so he takes his cloak from around his shoulders and sheathes edmund in it from the world.

perhaps edmund cries, caspian can’t tell. but he is clinging to the front of his shirt and seems as though he is trying to melt into the ground- or further into caspian, he doesn’t know- and at some point the flurries stop, barely coating the ground, but his fiancé still doesn’t emerge for a while.

and when he does, caspian brushes his thumb across his cheek, just in case there really were any tears; and edmund tilts his chin upwards to kiss him once, tugging the warm fabric of his cloak tighter to him.

caspian does not ask him anything until he’s ready, and when they  _ do _ return home to the castle, he makes sure edmund is wrapped up warm in bed, so that the seafarer may try to fight off his demons for him.


End file.
